The Golden Line (Chapter_1) ⇒ Kirno Sohochari

1.1

One day evening I was sitting on the dike beside the paddy field. The field was strangely colorful with golden paddy sheaf. Doves and dragonflies were flying over the golden waves and buzzing beat of bumblebees broke the silence after a while.

The evening sky was deadly pretty and golden on that day. Delightful rays of the evening sun was crashed over the paddy field and hiding their existence behind the sheaves. An incorporeal glimpse of light-and-shadows was seizing the whole surface but they were not staying so far in the field. Light and shadows were quickly melting and then vanished into the deep horizon.

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That evening was charming with the umpteen golden dust of paddy sheaves. They were bowing down to the ground and elevated after a short moment of delay. Suddenly a peasant is appearing in my sight. He was arrived from the deep corner of the horizon and soon coming near to me. I lifted up my face to his vaporized existence. His face was fuzzy with the drops of sweat. The sweat-drops were waiting to dripping in the ground but could not. He asked me, “Who are you Sahib and where to coming from?”

The evening was delighted and absurd with hypnotic gold-dust and I too affected by the dust. My hypnotic tone answering him, “I am coming from the remote town to see the golden beauties of paddy field. It is dazzling! Is not it?”

The vaporized peasant smiling to hear me and soon replied, “Yes, the paddy field is golden now but it will not to be golden at tomorrow. The paddy sheaves are ripe enough and time is coming to reap them from the field. You will not see them in here after a week later. The field will bareheaded by the next week.”


The evening is ripe at this moment and it will disappear by this moment and then ripe again for disappear.


I was yet spellbound to the beauties and asked him, “Then what?” It seemed to me that the peasant did not understand my question and repeated strangely, “Then what is what!” I cleared him, “Sorry, I mean what will next after that. What you are doing then.”

The peasant smiled again and replied to me, “Sahib, our life depends on the paddy field. This field is the life giver and life taker. It could not be barren for long time. Soon it will be prepared for next season’s plowing. Paddy field has been never being infertile at all.”

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The hard working peasant started walking to his home by left me behind. I feel pain to see the golden beauty. The evening is ripe at this moment and it will disappear by this moment and then ripe again for disappear. That golden evening gave me the bizarre experience of life, where nothing could stand forever to its current state and nothing is dying forever.

The paddy field is true with its golden sheaves and it is not true due to the changing state of time. Dreadful death and beauties are not special. They are only the impetus tinkle of the changing beat. I am getting up from the dike and starts walking to the auriferous horizon. It is urgent for me to cross the golden-line, because the reincarnated beauties are endlessly staying over there.

Moral: Death and beauties are everlasting beyond the horizon.

Continued to the next chapter: The Golden Line (Chapter_2)

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